


Cataclysmic Reaction

by wackyjacqs



Series: Bizarre Holidays [195]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Episode: s04e10 Beneath the Surface, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-28 17:39:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19817254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wackyjacqs/pseuds/wackyjacqs
Summary: It took a few moments, but eventually Jack looked away. His reaction intrigued Janet, but she didn't say anything. Instead, she observed his body language, and wondered – not for the first time – what exactly had happened to them out there.





	Cataclysmic Reaction

**Author's Note:**

> Written for ‘Eat Your Jell-O Day’ (12 July).

Jack stood on the ramp with Carter to his left and Daniel and Teal’c to his right as the staff in the control room erupted in applause.

"Welcome home, SG-1,” Hammond smiled.

"Thank you, sir," Jack replied absently as he took an inventory of his surroundings. The dull gray walls, the click and hiss of the blast door as it slid open, the bald man in a short-sleeved shirt. Yes, Jack O'Neill was home.

"I gather we have a lot to discuss, but first I'd like you all to visit the infirmary. Doctor Fraiser is expecting you," he added with a sympathetic smile as he took in the tired and dirty-looking people before him.

Jack nodded and gestured for Daniel and Teal’c to go first. He’d just made a move to follow when he felt a hand on his arm.

"Sir –"

He turned and saw the color drain from Carter's face.

"Carter!" he called, catching her just in time as she collapsed into his arms. _"We need a medic!"_

* * *

The colonel poked his head around the infirmary door and seeing no-one around, made his way towards the only occupied bed. He ducked through the gap in the curtain that had been drawn and took a moment to study his now-sleeping major. He swallowed hard at the sight and moving closer, gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He wanted to brush his fingers along the side of her face, to feel her skin under his, but knowing he was on dangerous ground, let his hand fall helplessly by his side. Instead, he pulled up a chair and moments later heard the distinctive sound of Janet's heels against the infirmary floor.

"Doc," he greeted flatly, his attention focused on Carter.

"Colonel, I thought I ordered you to get some rest?"

"You did."

"You have only been gone for forty-five minutes," she sighed. "I said I didn't want to see you back here for at least two hours."

"How is she?"

"There's been no change since you left, sir."

He nodded in understanding. Carter had regained consciousness shortly after they'd brought her into the infirmary, but when he’d leaned in closer and asked if she was okay, she had whispered in his ear the one word he now hated with a vengeance.

_Jonah._

Sam, perhaps fortunately, had then passed out and Jack had chosen to stay by her side – until he had been ordered to leave.

He was only vaguely aware that Janet had started speaking again, but when she hesitated, the silence caught his attention.

"What did you say, doc?"

"Does 'Jonah' mean something, sir?"

_There was the damn word again._

Jack tensed slightly before his gaze drifted back to his teammate. "No," he whispered. "It doesn't."

He chose to ignore the questioning look he knew was now being directed his way and added, "She's going to be okay. Right, Janet?"

Taken aback by the use of her first name, she nodded. "Yes, sir. I believe so."

"Good. How long 'til she gets out of here? Hammond will want to know," he continued, silently hoping she would buy his reason for asking.

"I honestly don't know. Normally, I would say a week before clearing someone for active duty; but we'll not know for sure until she regains consciousness. You were missing for four weeks, colonel, and Sam's lost a lot of weight in that time, as well as showing signs of mild dehydration. I also need to run another test."

Jack's eyes flew to hers. "What kind of test?"

Janet's hands disappear into her coat pockets as she took a deep breath. "Sam's preliminary blood tests show an elevated white blood cell count."

He stared at her blankly, despite his heart now hammering in his chest. He was no expert, but he knew of at least one thing as to what that could mean and he swallowed hard as he remembered their time on P3R-118, but he was not about to share those thoughts with Janet, so instead he waved a hand around in the air and hoped she mistook his reaction as confusion, rather an inappropriate amount of concern.

"And? So? Therefore?"

"It could simply be an infection her body is trying to fight,” Janet said, holding up a hand, “but it could be something else. It's just routine, sir."

It took a few moments, but eventually Jack looked away. His reaction intrigued the doctor, but she didn't say anything. Instead, she observed his body language, and wondered – not for the first time – what exactly had happened to them out there.

When he settled further back into the plastic chair, she sighed. She knew it was his way of saying he would not be leaving that spot until Sam was awake.

"Call me if there's any change, sir," she said quietly, drawing the curtain fully closed around the bed and leaving them alone.

* * *

It took thirty minutes before a soft whimper caught Jack's attention. Sam was awake, her blue eyes bright, but glassy and unfocused as she stared at him.

His chest tightened as he watched contentment, then confusion flash through her eyes before realization settled and she turned her face away. A part of him understood why, but it still hurt. He couldn't help himself though and used the opportunity to move closer and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his thighs.

"Hey," he murmured.

"Hi, sir."

"How are you feeling?"

He winced at the question, and the strained, “Fine, sir” he received in response, only confirmed what he already knew. She was anything _but_ fine.

He'd had a while to think their time P3R-118 but had only succeeded in driving himself crazy. In the end, he decided he had no other option but to lock his memories away in _that_ room – a room that was quickly becoming crowded. He knew Carter would do the same. They didn't have any other choice right now.

As he watched the various emotions battle in her eyes, he desperately wanted to reach out and touch her; to tell her he understood and that it was okay. That _they_ would be okay, but the words wouldn't come, because deep down, he knew that wasn't what he really wanted to tell her.

Not now. Not anymore. Not when the two of them had crossed every single line on that damn planet.

Before, when they were forced to admit their feelings for each other, it had been relatively easy to lock everything away and continue as if it had never happened. But that was a time when Jack had just his imagination to rely on when it came to thinking about Samantha Carter in that way.

Now it was different. He had experienced the reality. Now, he knew everything about her in the most intimate of ways; like how she sighed his name when he kissed her neck, or how her fingers set his skin on fire as they danced along his spine, how she tasted on his tongue –

He quickly shook his head to rid himself of the memories.

"I'm sorry, Carter. I –"

"Don't apologize, sir. We both..." She trailed off as her skin turned a light shade of pink and Jack forced himself to look away.

"I – ah – I need to get Janet."

He caught her disappointed expression, but then it was gone. "Yes, sir."

His jaw tightened at the salutation. He really hated that word as well now, and chose not to look back as he disappeared behind the curtain.

* * *

Sam inhaled sharply as she turned onto her side and jarred the IV in her hand. The pain made her stop and she closed her eyes as the room started to spin and the panic started to return.

She and the rest of SG-1 had been back on Earth for a day now, but she was finding it difficult to readjust and settle. Granted, it was more difficult when she was lying in an infirmary bed, drifting in and out of consciousness, but everything just seemed _harder_ this time. Even when Janet had carried out her tests, Sam found it laborious answering her friend’s questions. She was confused, felt sick and like a heavy weight was persistently pressing down on her chest. It made her feel like she was slowly suffocating.

The sound of someone clearing their throat startled her and she felt her skin burn when she noticed her commanding officer standing at the foot of the bed, his hands hidden behind his back.

"The doc says you're feeling better."

"A little."

"She also said you need to eat," he added pointedly, his gaze falling to the untouched tray of food at the side of the bed.

"I'm not hungry, sir."

"Yeah," he mumbled. "Janet said you'd no appetite."

He looked at the food again and pulled a face. "Can't say I blame you," he added, silently hoping it really was soup in one of the bowls. "You really should eat something, Carter."

"Is that an order, sir?" she whispered.

"Sam, I –"

He stopped abruptly as he tried to decide on what he wanted to say. In the end, he remained quiet but stepped closer and removed one arm from behind his back. Lifting the tray, he placed it at the bottom of the bed, while a spoon and a glass of blue Jell-O was held firmly in his other hand.

"Try this," he said, holding the dessert towards her.

He waited patiently as Sam studied him and after what felt like an eternity, she took it, but she didn't immediately start to eat, rather choosing to place the glass on her lap. Feeling slightly awkward as she continued to look at him, Jack thrust his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels.

"I, ah, thought that after four weeks of rationed crap, you'd like something that tasted more like... food," he explained, then pulled a face when he wondered if Jell-O was actually considered food.

"Thank you, sir."

She smiled but he heard the waver in her voice and all he could do was offer his own strained smile in response. Drawing a hand from his pocket, he ran it across the back of his neck.

"Think of it as a get well soon offering – and an apology," he murmured, holding her gaze.

"Sir?" She frowned.

"Back on '118, when we – uh," he winced, then let his attention fall to the glass of Jell-O. “I remember after we – well, afterwards – you were talking about dessert," he said, his lips twisting into a slight grin. "But it was the only thing I couldn't give you that night. Now –"

His smile suddenly changed to one full of regret. "Now, it's the only thing I can."

Brown eyes clashed with blue as Jack finally looked back at her and silently told her everything he couldn't say and he knew the moment she understood.

"Sir... _Jack._ I –"

Her words were cut off as the sound of Janet's heels could be heard from across the infirmary.

"I'm sorry, Sam," he whispered, before disappearing behind the curtain, leaving her staring after him with tear-filled eyes.


End file.
